As we head into the -- I don't even know anymore -- 30th month of quarantine? (jk) I see so many posts about people ramping up their culinary skills. I, myself, have started busting out the recipe book. Here's a quick anecdote about how that's going...
Let me preface by saying I LOVE to cook -- and I'm usually good at it -- but, to my chagrin, I was saddled with a family who doesn't like to eat. My kids (the husband included) could live on buttered noodles and be perfectly happy. That being said, I don't generally do a lot of cooking unless it's for other people, but in the midst of anarchy, strange things happen.
Which brings us to the other day.
Since I'm extra AF, I decided to mix up a batch of spicy pepper vodka sauce. It's something I know my husband likes, and my kids can still get buttered noodles on the side. Win/win! Now, the secret to a good spicy sauce is infusing the vodka for a day or so in hot peppers. Since I was making a large batch, (I'm half Italian and half Greek. I don't know how to make a meal in moderation) I didn't have a spouted cup big enough to infuse my vodka, so I used a glass vase I found in my cupboard. (I'd never used it for flowers. It was a gift that sat in the box for years.)
My garlic was sautéing in olive oil; the stove was nice and hot. Time to add my vodka. However, when I went to pour it in, the vodka dribbled from the wide mouth and down the side of the jar. It trickled down my arm, dappled the counter, and created a river directly to the lit burner below.
The fire leached into the alcohol fast and lit a blazing trail from the source of the heat directly up my arm where I was still pouring. Caught in a moment of sheer idiotic panic, I dropped the entire vase into the fire and ran to the sink to put myself out.
Blue flames shot from the puddle. Mouth agape, I watched them lick across my counter and engulf the pot with their fiery fingers. There was nothing I could do. My brain completely shut off. I was frozen in time.
The entire thing lasted only a couple of minutes. I wasn't hurt, nor was my kitchen. The alcohol burned out fast and, once my heart rate fell to a less cardiac arrest level, I cleaned up my mess and ordered a pizza.
What have you been doing to keep busy? Reading? Cleaning? Lighting things on fire ...?
Comment below and let me know how you're spending this crazy time.